His Eyes
by obsessivelyfanaticgw09
Summary: "Its hard for one who tries so hard to forget to remember, but in the same way, its all too easy" Even harder when everything from that forgotten time is so suddenly thrown back into your life. Acknowledged or not… Sequel to Forgotten Memories
1. Chapter 1

**His Eyes**

**"Its hard for one who tries so hard to forget to remember but in the same way, its all too easy" Even harder when everything from that forgotten time is so suddenly thrown back into your life. Acknowledged or not… Sequel to Forgotten Memories**

**So yeah, I know I haven't done anything on here for a while, but here I am again!**

**Thanks guys! I love so much writing Sweeney Todd because of all of the awesome readers!**

**K, enough of my ramblings, now read on!**

**So, unlike Forgotten Memories, the whole story is in third person. **

**Now, I'm sorry, but the first chapter is mainly what happened in the movie. **

**Chapter One **

Mrs. Lovett's first impression of the young boy beating the drum on Pirelli's stage was automatically passive. She hadn't seen the years of pain and suffering hidden behind his eyes at first. She hadn't paid much attention to anything that happened around her; not with the so recently returned love of her life standing next to her; and not with a plan that they had cooked up to go through with. The boy on stage looked like any child working in London. Short, pale, with dark eyes and a small frame. The only thing that made him more noticeable besides that fact that he was jumping around the stage singing, was the blonde hair that flowed over his head. Which is exactly what attracted many bald men to the stand, interested in how he got such wonderful locks.

When the boy was done going on about his product; and when they were done criticizing the work that he wouldn't of defended had he known a beating would come his way if he didn't, she still didn't think much of him.

The first flicker of her eye hadn't gone his direction until Pirelli had gone to sharpen his barber knives, whereupon they sliced the boys knuckles. His guardian didn't even seem to notice, as the young boy struggled not to cry out too loud and fix his eyes on his guardian's smug face. But even then, she hadn't given it much thought; she had other matters to focus her energy on, right?

But focus was hard to keep when all she had to center her attention on-for what seemed like hours-was Pirelli going on and on about stuff she didn't care about. Mrs. Lovett found herself more and more focused on the feeble looking boy; The way he seemed so scared underneath his obeying eyes. The way he did everything he was told despite the harsh tone of Pirelli's voice. The way he… she stopped focusing on him when Mr. T did his fast sweep of shaving the man in his chair's face and the beadle announced, "The winner is Todd!"

Mrs. Lovett slyly smiled and clapped her hands along with the crowd, knowing that it had worked out as planned.

And she hadn't even seen the young boy again until Pirelli gave an embarrassed smile and kicked him behind the stage, yelling brutally. Something hit her inside then. She didn't really know what and was unable to communicate it into a facial expression. All she seemed to be able to do was mutter to Sweeney, "Perhaps it's just me gentle heart, but I do hate to see a boy treated like that," as she struggled to slip his coat onto his stiff body, eventually just setting it on his shoulders. Not that he cared or even heard her.

Mrs. Lovett had always had a maternal instinct about her (although she liked to pretend she can't remember why). And, coincidentally, she had just finished going on about wanting to be the loving mother that Johanna never had, when she spotted the boy again. She had looked out of the window that Sweeney was brooding through and there he was, strolling next to Pirelli and heading straight for the shop.

She couldn't help but feel a little subconscious tingle when Sweeney told her to keep the boy down stairs. She knew it would be good for the lad to be away from the horrid man he called his guardian for a little while.

She felt pity for the boy when she watched him scarf down that pie she had given him. For one, he must be absolutely starving to ever want to eat something so horrid-looking so fast, and she wondered if Pirelli even fed the boy. Also, she felt pity because of the state of the pie. It's hard not to feel bad for someone when they are forced to eat something that you so poorly cooked.

She wasn't exactly sure why she had brought Albert into the conversation. Of course, it was partly because of the way the boy shoved the pie down his throat; much like her late husband always did. She didn't know that her subconscious mind had made the connection, although she wouldn't for a while.

When the boy reached up and took off the blonde wig, Mrs. Lovett wasn't even surprised. Relieved if nothing else. She had never particularly liked blonde hair anyway. And the boy seemed more like an individual and almost more human without the mask of the wig his guardian made him wear.

It wasn't long till the boy realized that he had forgotten to remind Pirelli of an appointment he had. Mrs. Lovett didn't catch much of what he was shouting as he rushed out of the room, but she did hear "If he's late he'll blame me!" before he went bounding up the steps. She had shouted for him to wait, knowing that Mr. Todd was probably attending to important matters with the boys master and didn't want to be bothered. Even after he didn't listen she didn't run after. She, seconds later, wished that she had, thinking that the boy would run off with Pirelli and she would never see him again.

When the boy came running back down the stairs only about a minute later with a larger than life smile plastered on his face she was a little surprised. After, the boy had announced that Mr. Todd had offered him some gin and Mrs. Lovett was to give it to him, she couldn't help but think on the way back to get the drink that she loved his smile.

Mrs. Lovett was soon to figure out the fate of the lad's guardian, and her head started to race as she thought about the boy. "So uh, wot'er we gonna do 'bout the boy?" Her heart skipped a beat when Mr. Todd announced to send him up, because she knew what that meant.

But she was fast to defend the boy and basically save his life by saying that she had thought about having him help with the shop. "Alright," Mr. Todd had muttered reluctantly. Relieved that she wouldn't have to say goodbye to the young boy anytime soon she joked "Course, we'll 'ave to stock up on the gin. Boy drinks like a sailor!"

Not even seconds later Mrs. Lovett was ordered out of the room, and sent scuttling down the stairs. The judge was arriving at Sweeney's shop, and this was his chance. She had found a rather sleepy light headed Toby downstairs and directed him to the parlor to lie down; where of which she had left to the shop until she saw Anthony running up the stairs, and the judge running down them, still very much alive.

At that point, she hadn't had another thought of the lad now passed out in her home. Not until she had went looking for the bottle of gin, and found him cradling it on the floor of the parlor. Even as she had matters to attend to with Sweeney, she couldn't help but think as she walked away that there was just something about the lad, something about Toby that just made him out of the ordinary**. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Toby walked into Mrs. Lovett's room after he was finished cleaning the tables for the day. Tomorrow there would be a fresh batch of pies from the mysterious bake house, a nice line of hungry customers at the door and a dozen more tables for Toby to clean. He didn't mind though. His previous "guardian" made him do much worse things. And besides, if it made Mrs. Lovett happy, he was happy, right? He thought she already worked too much the way it was.

Mrs. Lovett was lying in her chair, reading a book by the soft candlelight in the room. Toby observed the way her eyes narrowed with surprise at the words in front of her. She was engulfed in the story that played out in a scene that only she could see. Toby hated to interrupt what seemed to be a very exciting part of the literature.

"Mum?" Toby asked, after waiting a second.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes shot up from the page. She gasped. Toby hadn't realized it, but from her view, he was hiding right behind the book in her hands and there was no way she could have known that he walked so silently in. His mum let out a long sigh when she realized who it was at the door. Just Toby, not the mythical creature that was sneaking up on the protagonist in her book. "Oh, Toby dear. You gave me a fright, you did," She smiled and set down the book after she had marked her spot.

"Sorry," Toby just about whispered. He lingered in the threshold of her bedroom, seeming to be afraid to come in.

"Well, come on in lad. Nothing to be afraid of," Mrs. Lovett encouraged, and motioned for Toby to come in.

He had been in there before; and its not like he was going to confess to his mum of a crime or anything; but he was nervous for whatever reason at the subject that he had wanted to bring up. Maybe it was the way that the moonlight seemed to cast a shadow on the room. Or maybe in was the way the wind blew the curtains in and out, like breathing. He inched in. Mrs. Lovett sat up all the way in her chair, pushing the stool that she was resting her feet on aside. "Are yah all done cleanin', love?" She asked. Her eyes seemed to dare Toby to come closer, but he lingered. He just nodded.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes narrowed, noticing something off in the boy who seemed to have become a son-figure to her, whether she liked it or not.

She liked to believe, truthfully and honestly, that she really just needed his help in the pie shop and she wasn't at all attached to the boy. It's what she decided long ago she would have to portray. She would have to look and act like this boy was just help, getting attached to him would be all too much, she decided. She knew all too well what becoming attached to a fragile human being can do.

"Wot's the matter?" She asked. "You seem anxious, love, wot's got yah?"

Toby finally walking all the way in then, realizing that he was never very good at masking his emotions and really he had nothing to fear. Toby shrugged. "I wanted to talk," He said as he sat on the stool that Mrs. Lovett had recently taken her feet off of.

His Mum's eyes grew big and a small smile appeared in the corner of her mouth for a second. Toby didn't know why, but the look seemed to make him even more anxious. "Did you meet a gurl?" Mrs. Lovett asked her voice sounding much like an eager teenager.

Toby was drawn back at the strange smile on her face. He frowned and shook his head, slightly feeling like a disappointment.

Mrs. Lovett chuckled and patted his knee. "Ah, I jus' kiddin' yah, love. Just ignore me and continue with yah talk,"

Toby smiled, relieved that the subject had been dismissed. Wait, she was just kidding? Did she think that Toby couldn't get a…he pushed the thoughts away, struggling to get back to why he entered the room.

"Mum?" He asked. He seemed to say mum more then often and he was glad she let him. He never knew his mum. All the way from his childhood all he could remember was the blurry face of an older child that took care of him in the workhouse, and then the all too vivid face of Signor Pirelli.

"I was washin' the tables out in the shop, and I saw the picture of yah husband. I remember yah telling me about him before. But…" Toby trailed off. Why exactly was he bringing this up? "Well, there's not much to be said about my past. And…" He trailed off again. He soon observed how his mums mouth was hanging open. She was still listening, but struggling to see the point. "Well, I see the way yahr face lights up when yah read them books and I can't really read but…" There was an awkward silence. "I guess wot I'm sayin' is that I would like to know… if you don't mind… more about your past,"

Mrs. Lovett heard the words of Toby's and words from her own past were suddenly and abruptly thrown towards her.

_You're my Benjamin, you're my Benjamin. _

_Probably scarlet fever._

_Just forget about, just forget about it, just forget about it. _

Toby stared at his mum's silent, staring eyes. All the sudden he remembered that he had been so nervous to come in and ask this. All he had wanted was something like a bedtime story, but he seemed to have upset his Mum.

Mrs. Lovett forced the thoughts away. She hadn't thought of them for years, why did Toby seem to conjure them up so quickly for her? She took a breath and sat up more, forcing her eyes off of Toby's. Suddenly, she felt better.

"Like wot deary?"

Toby frowned. "I don't know," _Don't be so gloomy_, Toby tried to tell himself. "Tell me about your husband, if yah don' mind," He trailed off, not sure

"Not at all," came her oddly nonchalant response.

"Alright… How did you guys meet? Did you ever want children?" Toby didn't know why such an odd question had slipped out. He stopped himself and bit his lower lip, forcing himself to look at Mrs. Lovett and remain silent.

His mum chuckled, seeming completely fine compared to what she had looked like but 15 seconds ago. "Well, how we met is a long story. And about the children thing, Albert certainly didn't want them," She answered the question more naturally then you'd expect; not with what she hid from everyone, including herself. She sat forward again and leaned into Toby as if about to tell a mysterious tale that needed to be whispered to capture the full-effect.

"Albert never wanted kids and he died…" Mrs. Lovett was forced to trail off as she caught Toby's gaze, looking him in the eyes once again.

_His eyes, oh his eyes._

Mrs. Lovett found her words coming out slurred, what she was really saying was totally absent minded to herself.

"_But he never knew. And after he passed… I loved Ben. You're my Benjamin. You're my Benjamin,"_

Toby's eyes grew large with surprise as he noted his mum staring at him so intensely. It seemed she didn't know the words that were pouring out of her mouth. She seemed to be completely in a trance. "Mum?" He asked as Mrs. Lovett's words became slurred and undistinguishable. "Mum, I'm sorry. I think you need some sleep, goodnight."

Toby left the room in haste, and as soon as his eyes were no longer in contact with hers she came to her senses. Toby was out of the door before she could figure out much more.

Tears welded in the bakers eyes. How could she let these memories back in? The years had gone by! The years had been lost. Those memories were forgotten. That boy forgotten. She silently cursed herself for letting it back in so easily. Then remembered… the best way to forget about something is to not think about it right?

So she pushed away the memory of the not-hardly-talk that her and Toby had just had and blew out the last candle in her room. But even after she had changed and gotten cozy under the warm covers of her bed, she couldn't help thinking.

_His eyes, oh his eyes. So… so… familiar?_

****

Now review!

So I'll be honest here, I haven't finished writing either of these stories. I know, I'm bad. Usually I'm the one that hates that but I promise to finish as long as people show that they like the stories!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning Mrs. Lovett was up bright and early as always. She didn't partially like being up early to start making the pies, but the rest of the day needed to be open to attend to the hungry customers. The shop wasn't meant to be open at this point in the morning, but she hadn't bothered to switch the sign to closed last night, so it still read "open"

Mrs. Lovett didn't even look up from the dough she was pounding on until she saw the shadow of the person who had very quietly slipped into the shop pass over her.

Ignoring the fact that the shop wasn't meant to be open yet, the baker perked up.

"A customer!" She smiled to the young woman standing at the door with a little girl at her side. "Ello love, wot can I do fer yah?" She asked, looking back down at the white blob she was working on. Normally she would have told the person to go back, that the sign was a mistake, that the shop wasn't open, but she had finished making most of the pies early this morning, and boredom was beginning to bite at her sides, so why not entertain just one ambitious customer?

For several seconds the person in the shop said nothing, so Mrs. Lovett looked up again. She was a little confused by the look on the women's face. The women standing in her shop, still silent, was probably around thirty years old with long, straight black hair that flowed down her back very gracefully. Her big brown eyes were full of wonder, and staring strangely at Mrs. Lovett.

"Mrs. Lovett?" Finally came the voice of the women.

Mrs. Lovett sighed and displayed a puzzled look. "Yes?" She asked, shrugging.

The women waked quickly closer to the counter, a spring in her step. Mrs. Lovett, still confused, stepped back.

"Oh, I suppose you don' remember me," said the women, smiling large.

Mrs. Lovett shook her head, just about to call down Sweeney to ask the women for a shave (well, it was worth a shot).

"Well, no. I suppose not. Its been, wot? 12 or 13 years? Goodness, it all seems so long ago.." The women continued as she took a step back to show Mrs. Lovett that she really wasn't trying to offend her.

The women looked at the baker deep in the eyes, trying to make her see who she was without really bringing up her name. The little girl at her side, about 5 or 6, with the same long perfectly straight black hair tied up in a bun on her head, just remained silent.

"Nellie? Come on now. You really don' remember?"

Mrs. Lovett walked back to her counter, searching her mind desperately for the familiarity of the women's face; not to mention whoever this was knew her name. Mrs. Lovett figured she must have known this girl in her past.

Finally, the name came to her and her face lit up with realization. She saw the younger face of the women; the one that she had met over 12 years ago. Sitting next to an older women, looking tiered and worn out. Now it was so bright, so radiant. No wonder she didn't recognize it.

"Juliet?" The baker asked. 

The young women's face lit up and she nodded. Mrs. Lovett flung herself around the counter and wrapped the girl in a hug. "Oh, Nellie. I was hoping this was you! I saw the shop and recognized the name! I hoped it was you but I wasn't sure until I saw your face! My goodness!" Juliet said fast, energy in her voice and squeezing Mrs. Lovett a little too tight.

"Oh, how nice to see you!" Mrs. Lovett responded. "How nice to see you so grown up and well!" She added, releasing the hug and holding onto Juliet's shoulders as she looked her over. All grown, but still holding her childish smile and eyes that had always made Mrs. Lovett smile in the workhouse…

It took seconds for her to realize it, but a part of her past which she had tried to forget was suddenly thrown back at her. There was nothing she could do but let everything just flood back as such an important image of that time in her life was standing so near to her. Mrs. Lovett struggled to appear that her world hadn't not just been practically rocked off its orbit and kneeled down to the little girl standing next to Juliet. "And 'ho is this?" She asked.

The young girl grabbed Juliet's dress and buried her face in it, hiding from Mrs. Lovett. Juliet giggled at the child's reaction. "Madelyn, dearie. Now come on out, Nellie's just an old friend," She looked up with a smile and swooped up the child in her arms. The girl continued to hide her face from Mrs. Lovett, now burring it in Juliet's shoulder. "This is my daughter, Madelyn."

Now that Mrs. Lovett was sure who the little girl was, it was easy to see that Madelyn was Juliet's own daughter. They had the same straight and shiny black hair, the same narrow face and big eyes, and the same slender body. The only thing that seemed to be different was the way that the little girl hid from the baker, when Juliet, as a child, was so eager to make friends with her.

Mrs. Lovett's face lit up. "You're daughter?" She exclaimed. "Well, how wonderful. She's so sweet,"

Juliet laughed. "Usually! She's a little shy today. Don' mind her, though,"

Mrs. Lovett smiled back. "Its' fine."

Both of the women proceeded to sit in the booth that occupied the pie shop, Madelyn still in her mum's arms.

Juliet sighed, "I know you used to tell me that Ben wasn't much of a talker either."

The words hit Mrs. Lovett abruptly, like a sudden gust of wind. She had little time to struggle to mask the sudden reference to a boy tucked so deeply in her memories. Her face displayed sorrow, but not her true bitter thoughts.

_Why must you bring this up?_

Juliet noticed her old friends sudden reaction and followed up with an abrupt apology. "Oh, Nellie, I'm sorry. I… I… You know its just… after all these years I never forgot you… never forgot _anything _about you apparently… and I don't know its just… I'm sorry for bringing this up. Shall we talk about something else?"

Mrs. Lovett's eyes had become glued to the ground. Pressing her lips together she took a deep breath in and nodded.

"So… Its good to see you grown up and doing so well," Mrs. Lovett repeated, ignoring the head ache that was coming on. "Good to know you finally could get yahr self out of that awful place," She added, obviously referring to the workhouse.

"Well I didn't earn my way out, that's for certain," Juliet said, rubbing a hand in the small of Madelyn's back.

Mrs. Lovett displayed a confused look, asking with her eyes for the girl to continue with her story.

"About two and a half years after you left, the whole place burnt to the ground. We were all dropped out on the street. Most people were recruited to a new workhouse. I didn't go though. Although both of my parents were gone, I was lucky. I managed to get a job that paid enough for weekly food and a place to sleep. I guess you could say I owe the place for my husband too. I met Tim one day while working. It was love at first sight, I suppose you could say,"Juliet finished with removing the young girl from her shoulder and setting her small body on her knee. "Anyway, Madelyn was born about six years ago and that's just about all the major things that happened my life the last few years," She said with a smile. Juliet was always the one to tell long stories with nothing but a breath. But she was also the one to always want a story so… "What about you Nellie?"

As if cued by an unseen director, Toby came walking through the threshold that lead to the parlor. "Mum, I didn't think we had opened up shop yet," He said walking over to the women at the booth.

"Mum?" Juliet murmured just loud enough for Mrs. Lovett to hear.

"Yes, I know deary. Juliet is an old friend. And Madelyn is her daughter. Say hello to them, eh?"

Toby waved to the two sitting across from his mum in the booth.

"This is Toby, Juliet. And this is Juliet, Toby," Mrs. Lovett introduced them all.

"Pleasure," Toby said politely with the shake of their hands.

"Sure thing," Juliet responded, "Say hello, love," She added, talking to the little girl on her knee. Madelyn shook her head and hid her face in Juliet's dress again. "Shy thing," She said to Toby. Toby smiled back and nodded.

"Uh, Toby dear, why don't you go finish cleaning the table outside for me, love," Mrs. Lovett suggested, wanting to explain it all to Juliet before she let her imagination do so for her.

Toby wrinkled his nose and was about to complain like any teenager, but nodded instead and smiled. "Yes mum," And he left the room after grabbing the rag off of the counter.

"Mum?" Juliet asked again, confirming what Mrs. Lovett knew she was thinking.

"Oh, picked poor Toby 'ere off the streets 'bout a month ago, poor thing. Don't think he ever had a mother. Figured, why not be such a figure to him?" Mrs. Lovett explained.

Juliet only responded with a nod of her head, wondering if what her friend was saying could honestly be the truth.

* * *

The girls talked for hours before Juliet announced that she was to put Madelyn down for a nap, although promising to be back for a pie before the week was out.

And as she walked out the door Mrs. Lovett found herself wondering…

This was the second time in such a short time that her past that she tried so hard to forget was thrown at her. Once by an old friend, and the other, well by herself. She couldn't help but wonder about the significance. And she couldn't help but know in the back of her mind, that this was all just the beginning.


End file.
